Twilight of the Idols
by lye tea
Summary: He never had any pretenses of godhood. Series of semi-related oneshots. Caius/Yeul
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** This is more a collection of my general ramblings and speculations on the FFXIII universe than anything else. I like playing with theology and other Completely Serious Subjects. Also, my humor tends to be very twisted and not-funny. Sick, really.

* * *

What is it: is man only a blunder of God, or God only a blunder of man?

—Nietzsche

**I.**

When god is dead, the world will be fine. When god—that insatiable monster with gold-felt wings—is no more, he (steady now) will sleep. Will _breathe_. Slowly, quietly, deep in a vault somewhere hidden.

"Yeul. Wake up."

And she does (she will always obey him).

Taking her hand, Caius leads them out of the debris and ashes—away from the graveyard of gods and immortals.

...

He thinks he has won. Slew Etro (god itself) and brought time to a halt. Here, in this endless stream between existence and nothing, he can be with his Yeul again. The eternity is supposed to be.

...

Caius is only slightly surprised when he sees the humans rebuilding their civilizations. Hope can be eliminated (he learned that the hard way). But perseverance in mundane affairs, the plebian dreariness, is something that escapes death entirely.

Amused, he takes a sip of tea and continues watching. Yeul squirms as he pets her hair. Recalcitrant, even after all these years.

"Stay still."

_Good girl_.

...

Religion is a peculiar mystery. With its nasty teeth and enticing scent, it easily captures hearts (pollutes the mind). Something astonishing happened with the humans. He tells Yeul:

An archaeologist and a historian discovered a slab bearing inscriptions, which they promptly endeavored to decipher. The stone originated from Valhalla—yes, the original one—and contains an alleged formula for godhood.

Two weeks later, the first temple dedicated to Bhunivelze starts undergoing construction. Infinitely amused, Caius wonders how long it will take them to figure out their noble god's true intents. Or that it's really all a scam.

...

Apparently, it takes them a very, _very_ long time. Five hundred years to be exact.

...

Eventually, he grows bored and contemplates awakening Lightning. Just to have _something _to do—even if she hadn't been an adequate opponent (no one likes excessive pathos). But thankfully, he always has Yeul to coax him out of these moments.

Today, she is pretending to be a cat and only responds to presents of fish nibblets.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

**1.**

In quiet disbelief, Caius watches the mother pass her child to him. Her cheeks are sunken. Then, wooden and sudden, she grants her blessing. It erupts like a swallowed flame, writhing from a dark, ugly place and searching escape.

She has known this day will come, this inevitability of separation. She has known since the day the child was born (he rationalizes) since the first time she saw the silver-woven hair and pale eyes. The odious manifestation of Etro's gift. And although he's witnessed this scene unfold hundreds of times already, he cannot elude the repugnant recognition of despair.

It was always the same: a mother and her child, sometimes a father and brothers and sisters and grandparents and endless others. Sometimes they cried, and other times sighed in relief—as if they were washed of a curse.

"Will you…will you take care of her? When the time comes?"

Yeul squirms in his arms, distressed by the absence of her mother. Gently, he hands the baby back. He will return soon enough and he'll retrieve her forever (once again).

"Yes," he answers quietly.

The lie slips through easily, spun from gossamer and stronger than steel.

**2. **

He comes to collect the new Yeul when she is seven. Screaming and crying, she refuses to forsake her father's hand.

_Please. She is still a child. _

There is no mercy as he wrenches her free.

**3. **

This time he'll get it right. This time she is the one who takes his hand and leads them out the door.

She laughs as the sun strikes her face. She tells him not to worry, that she has lived enough though she is only twelve. And dutifully, he nods as she edifies him on the joys of each pebble and twig.

"Before this year is over, I will die," she murmurs.

Shocked, he considers her words. No Yeul until now has seen her own demise. But neither will she be the last.

"Then we shall have to make the most of it," he replies.

**4. **

The river is a sanctuary. Erected by gods and maintained by generations of priests, it serves as the final sendoff for souls. Here, the ashes are scattered into the dull waters.

Caius stands aside as the grieving parents escort the corpse. Around him, the soft swell of farewells and threnodies echo. As the notes cling together, piercing the setting sun, he wonders how many more times he will testify.

How many more girls will be robbed by Etro. Their memories effaced and resurrected.

Until only he can remember.


End file.
